More Americans appear to be shifting away from the religious affiliations that previous generations often clung to. Recent studies suggest that we now have 16 percent of Americans who don’t affiliate with any religion, and 76 percent identify with Christianity. Another four percent indicate other religions such as Judaism, Buddhism and Hinduism.
I’ll admit, I’m slightly biased in writing this article, as I am a Christian. So my article may tend to focus on aspects of Christianity over others. But as the above statistics show, we’ve even seen a decrease from our 1963 all-time high of 93 percent claiming Christianity.
However, it appears that organized religion has certainly contributed to religion waning, particularly among young people.
Here’s how I see it: I believe religious institutions are flawed. Flawed because humans create them and we are flawed creatures.
I’ve also noticed the bureaucratic tendencies in all religions. And they tend to be comprised of individuals focused on questionable methods rather than betterment of spirit. Young people shouldn’t get disinterested in its process and leave it altogether. We should find and cling to its meaning and the reason for its existence. That meaning is what matters.
In Christianity, we find hope in the redemptive qualities of Jesus Christ. Specifically, the relationship we develop with him doesn’t begin at birth and doesn’t end at death. It’s a living, personal commitment. A commitment to something greater than ourselves.
That’s often hard to comprehend. Christianity, compared to many, or really all religions, values lowering yourself, not necessarily raising yourself up for self-justification. This understanding of humility allows us comprehend our role in society — putting others above our interest and focusing on unconditional love. Unconditional because we know our place is as low or lower than the worst among us.
What is religion if not a set of moral codes by which we conduct our affairs? Or is it lessons learned and gods created so that we may ask forgiveness to cure our evils?
Objectivist Ayn Rand dismissed religion’s qualities. She found it too pedantic; granting us permission to act irrationally that provides an excuse to think outside our rational thought process. Her point was we should not ask what particular code of values man should accept, but rather does a man need values at all — and why? That aside, she was correct about rationalism, because we do use religion as an excuse to forget it at times.
Yet Ayn’s partial failure, and many of her admirers’ failures, was recognizing that individual supremacy above all else is incompatible with, or not remotely relatable to, our personal religious journey. “All or nothing” is not a proper way to analyze religion. In Ayn’s book “The Virtue of Selfishness,” as opposed to Jesus’s plea for selflessness, we find a flaw — the failure to understand at some level, following the creed of Christ, or whatever religion you ascribe to, leads to a form of self-fulfillment. Thus, are we not in some way selfish in pursuing this desired outcome? Arguably so. We, admittedly, are pursuing our own self-interest by helping others. We aren’t too far off from individualism to recognize this.
Even more, religion requires faith. But like any relationship, for those of you happily in one, it takes more than faith and trust alone. It takes daily effort.
That’s why organized religion has somewhat failed us, but not necessarily religion itself. It fails when we place process over reality. We encourage rules over substance. And we focus on the small without acknowledging the end game. It doesn’t have to continue though. We’ve seen true relationships and their continued effectiveness in small neighborhood home churches over large established ones.
True relationships with the supreme being don’t involve our outward works perceptions, but our inner dealings.
Here’s where it gets interesting. We are encouraged and renewed by celebrating our faith with like-minded individuals. It’s an opportunity to acknowledge and grow in our faith. It makes us feel safe. And, yes, we may establish processes for our relationship with our maker, including scheduling time for daily meditations or prayers and memorizing sacred text.
However, we need not confuse these steps with an overall formation of our flawed institutions. The highest form of individual spiritual realities involves your personal efforts in the relationship. Your conscious attempts to exercise your faith merely reflect your subconscious estimations of it. There’s nothing safe about personal accountability because it’s hard. No one makes you do it.
In all, we get more reward in the long run for our personal spiritual gains than our collective ones, but don’t confuse this statement with the call to proselytize. That is precisely why our institutions fail regarding its promotion.
I actually like process, and our institutions give us some process in tidy and convenient weekly opportunities (and more, given your institution’s goals).
But if you’re tired of feeling like you’re going through the motions, still feeling the emptiness that your institution should be addressing, look no further than your personal relationship with the almighty. It may surprise you. I know I’m tired of seeing more and more organized and politicized religion. So, I continue to work on a relationship, and in the end, it’s that relationship — your personal spiritual endeavors — that will save us, not your church, temple, sanctuary or “country club” membership card.
Cory Ferraez is a third-year law student from Columbus.
